


Cool Cats

by FallingLikeThis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bad Jokes, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Cat Ears, Cat Harry, Cat Tail, Cat/Human Hybrids, Dungeons & Dragons, Familial Angst, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, Harry Styles is Marcel, Hurt/Comfort, Hybrids, Light Angst, M/M, Marcel is a nerd and he's not sorry about it, Nightmares, OT5 Friendship, Tutoring, it's just one scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-13 20:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14756183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingLikeThis/pseuds/FallingLikeThis
Summary: There’s a gorgeous boy sitting there, staring at him. His hair is longish, tucked back by a cloth headband, his eyes are a brilliant blue that make Marcel question if he’s ever actually seen real blue before or just cheap imitations of it. And his lips, thin and pink, are just slightly open, almost as though they’re inviting Marcel’s kiss.“Oh,” the boy breathes in surprise and the tone is enough to wake Marcel from his momentary stupor. He realizes that the boy is staring at his ears and suddenly kisses are the furthest thing from Marcel’s mind.Marcel exhales harshly and pulls out his chair, sinking into it and crossing his arms over his chest. He lifts his chin defiantly. “Alright, let’s have it.”“Have… what?” The boy asks wide-eyed and, fuck, even his voice is beautiful. It’s got this delightful rasp to it that makes Marcel wanna purr.“Whatever jokes or insults you’re gonna say. Let’s just get them over with now and out of the way,” Marcel says.The blue-eyed cutie just sits there, staring.OrSometimes, Marcelcanhave nice things.





	Cool Cats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [star_k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_k/gifts).



> To my giftee, I am so so sorry for how late this is. I wanted to give you your first prompt because it seemed like the one you wanted most but I could never find the first Karekano to work from. Please accept this humble offering in it's place. I really hope I got close to something you wanted. 
> 
> Thank you to my betas for the wonderful work you did for me and for helping encourage me when I wasn't sure I would ever finish. 
> 
> And a special thank you to Jacky for being endlessly patient with me.
> 
> Note: The school is American, the characters are not.

***Friday After School***

 

“Here kitty, kitty,” someone catcalls down the hallway and Marcel fights the urge to tuck his ears in. Instead, he flips the arsehole off over his shoulder and flicks his tail sassily as he keeps walking. He’s supposed to be tutoring some new kid in the library in a few minutes and all he wants is to go home and spend his weekend watching Altered Carbon and playing D&D with his friends, he doesn’t have time for this shit. As he reaches his locker and spins the combination lock, he takes a moment to pause and rest his head against the cool metal. He just hopes this new kid isn’t an asshole too.

Taking a deep breath, Marcel lifts his head and opens his locker, reaching for his Chemistry textbook and replacing it with his Discrete Math book.  He tucks his book under his arm, shuts his locker, and speed walks to the library so he won’t be late.

The library is nearly empty when he reaches it and stalks in with purpose. The librarian is behind her desk reading a Veronica Teller Mystery but looks up when Marcel walks in. She smiles in comradery, flicking one of her ears affectionately. Marcel smiles back and sends her a wave before she goes back to her book.

Being one of only three hybrids in the whole school, Marcel has made friends in strange places. Not everyone is accepting of his kind. In fact, very few people are openly accepting of hybrids. So, Marcel has made it his business to seek out others like him and reach out a friendly hand, let them know they aren’t alone and they never have to be. It’s how he met his best friend.

“Hey, mate. You’re running late today,” Zayn states with a smirk, walking over to pinch Marcel in the side. He has a free period at the end of the day on Mondays and Wednesdays so he could just leave but he spends his time studying in the library in order to wait for his boyfriend, Niall.

“I know,” Marcel groans, batting at Zayn’s hand as he looks around the library. He only sees one other student sitting at an otherwise empty table, the book they’re reading… _upside down_ is obscuring their face. Marcel squints at them.

“Yep,” Zayn confirms Marcel’s fears, nodding at the student in question. “I think that’s your tutee.”

Marcel snorts and shoves at Zayn. “That’s not a word, mate.”

Zayn shrugs, patting Marcel on the shoulder. “Gotta go. Don’t take any shit.”

“Like I would,” Marcel grins, waving his friend off. “Don’t have too much fun with Niall.”

“Oh, I’m gonna have _all the fun_ with Niall,” Zayn retorts suggestively, laughing at the face Marcel makes as he pushes out the door.

“Why do I keep him?” Marcel wonders with a shake of his head, watching through the windows as Zayn walks the down the hallway, effortlessly cool.  Niall rushes to meet him halfway with a “Woo!” that’s audible through the glass as he lifts Zayn from the ground and spins him. Marcel chuckles at the sight. He’s glad his best mate found a good one.

Sighing, Marcel looks back at the upside-down reader and squares his shoulders, walking over to the table. “Sorry I’m late,” he says, putting his book down on the table.

The book lowers and Marcel’s heart drops to his stomach. There’s a gorgeous boy sitting there, staring at him. His hair is longish, tucked back by a cloth headband, his eyes are a brilliant blue that make Marcel question if he’s ever actually seen _real_ blue before or just cheap imitations of it. And his lips, thin and pink, are just slightly open, almost as though they’re inviting Marcel’s kiss.

“Oh,” the boy breathes in surprise and the tone is enough to wake Marcel from his momentary stupor. He realizes that the boy is staring at his ears and suddenly kisses are the furthest thing from Marcel’s mind.

Marcel exhales harshly and pulls out his chair, sinking into it and crossing his arms over his chest. He lifts his chin defiantly. “Alright, let’s have it.”

“Have… what?” The boy asks wide-eyed and _,fuck,_ even his voice is beautiful. It’s got this delightful rasp to it that makes Marcel wanna purr.

“Whatever jokes or insults you’re gonna say. Let’s just get them over with now and out of the way,” Marcel says.

When the blue-eyed cutie just sits there, staring, Marcel decides to save him the trouble. Leaning forward, he counts them off on his hands. “No, I don’t lick myself. No, I don’t eat mice for lunch. I don’t chase squirrels.  I don’t want a ball of yarn to play with. My name is not Oliver or Simba or Tabby. It’s Marcel. And if you pull out a laser pointer, I’m not gonna chase after the little red dot, I’m gonna take the lazer pointer and shove it up your—”

“Hey! Okay, I get it!” The boy says, holding up his hands in surrender. “I don’t have a laser pointer. Or a ball of yarn. What you eat for lunch or chase in your free time are your business, and my name isn’t arsehole or knobhead or bigoted jerk. It’s Louis,” he ends lowering one of hands and offering it to Marcel to shake, putting on a wide smile that could make even the hardest heart swoon at the sight. “Nice to meet you.”

Marcel bites down on the inside of his cheek in an effort not to smile back just yet but reaches across to shake Louis’ hand. It’s warm and small in his own and he has to remember to take his hand back before he makes it weird. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you too.”

“So... now that introductions are out of the way,” Louis says with a smirk, laying his hand on Marcel’s book and tapping it with his fingernail. “I think you have a few things to teach me.” He raises an eyebrow like that might have actually been a question before his brows even out and that smirk is back, sending electricity down Marcel’s spine. “I mean, besides new and interesting places to keep my laser pointer.”

Marcel snorts at that, no longer fighting the smile that wants to break out. “Thought you didn’t have one.” He sits up straighter, opening the chemistry book blindly as he quirks a sassy eyebrow at the other boy.

Louis chuckles. “I misspoke. I don’t have one on me.”

“Well, for future reference, leave it at home, yeah?” Marcel tells him, keeping his tone playful even though he genuinely hopes Louis will heed his advice.

“No worries, mate,” Louis grins, sliding his chair closer to the table and glancing down at the book under Marcel’s hands as he folds his own hands together and straightens his back. It looks like he’s attempting to look studious and Marcel has trouble keeping his smile under control.

“So, chemistry,” he says, to have something else to concentrate on, besides how cute his student is. “Is there somewhere particular you’re having trouble or is this like a general catchup just from transferring or…” He trails off, hoping Louis will fill in the blanks.

“Um, yeah. I’m just sort of rubbish at school in general. But especially that gibberish,” Louis’ gestures to the book, his eyes and tone both serious suddenly. His cheeks looks a little tinged, like he might be embarrassed about it. “My hope is that you can, like, put it into laymen’s terms for me. Like, pretend you’re teaching it to someone who’s never even heard of science before. Maybe then I could get it.”

With each word he’s said, Louis has hunched into himself just the slightest bit and maybe it’s not enough for most people to notice but Marcel has been there. He spent the start of his teenage years doing exactly that every time some stupid bully made a comment about his ears, or worse, his tail. He’d learned to ignore it, to not let it bother him because his ears and tail are a part of him. Something he can’t change and shouldn’t want to. He’d learned to love those parts of himself but this is a little different and Marcel hates that Louis feels like he has to be ashamed of himself for this. No one should have to feel bad simply for not _understanding_ , especially when they’re actually _trying to_.

“Okay,” Marcel says, nodding his head as he watches Louis stare down at his fingernails, picking at them self-consciously. He thinks he can help Louis. “So, chapter one then?”

Louis lifts his eyes to meet Marcel’s gaze, a new smile quirking his lips when he realizes that Marcel doesn’t think any less of him for his lack of knowledge. “Chapter one,” he agrees.

 

*****

 

“So, matter is…” Marcel prods, watching Louis’ as he scrunches his brow in concentration.

Louis knows this. At least, he _thinks_ he does.

“Anything that takes up space?” Louis asks, already wincing over his answer. Something seems wrong with it.

“Annnd…”Marcel encourages with a rolling motion of his hand, signaling to Louis that there’s more to the answer. So maybe he’s not wrong after all. If only he could remember the rest.

“And,” Louis tacks on, running his hands through his hair and leaving his fingers tangled in the strands as he searches his memory. He doesn’t want to let Marcel down. He’s been so patient with Louis, especially after the way they met. Louis has seen hybrids before, he shouldn’t have been shocked to find out Marcel was one. It’s just… Louis’ never been attracted to one before. _That_ was new. And now Marcel just keeps building onto the attraction by being genuinely lovely while Louis struggles to learn this infernal subject.

Rolling his eyes, Louis gives up.  “And anything that isn’t fucking insignificant? I don’t know.” He sighs, letting both hands drop to the table dejectedly.

Marcel grins, eyes shining with mirth. “I see what you did there,” he informs Louis. “Matter is anything that matters. Cute.”

“But wrong,” Louis surmises, not even cracking a grin. It _is_ heartening that Marcel liked his joke even if it was made in frustration but Louis is too busy dwelling on his failure to feel it fully. “I told you I was rubbish.”

“Hey,” Marcel leans forward covering one of Louis’ hands with his own. “Having trouble memorizing vocabulary isn’t the same as not understanding. You’re doing fine. And matter is anything that takes up space and has mass.”

Louis rolls his eyes and he knows he’s got his shoulders hunched defensively but he just _doesn’t get it_. “Isn’t that everything?”

Marcel studies him for a moment, possibly trying to determine whether or not to just give up. “What are you thinking right now?” He asks, throwing Louis off guard.

“I dunno. That chemistry is the bane of my existence? That these chairs are not comfortable enough to spend hours at a time in? That I’m probably overdue for a haircut,” he babbles in answer, pushing a few loose strands of hair out of his face.

Marcel chuckles at him. “First of all, I like your hair the length it is, for whatever that’s worth. You’re absolutely right about these torture devices the school board calls chairs, and we’re gonna fix that last one. But no, I meant, everything you just told me, all those things running through your mind right now, what are they called?”

Louis narrows his eyes at his tutor, feeling suspicious. “Thoughts?”

“Yes!” Marcel shouts, getting excited and causing the Librarian to shush him with a surprised look on her face. He mouths a silent ‘sorry’ with a wave of acknowledgement and turns back to Louis to whisper, “Yes! Thoughts! Are they tangible things? Can you hold them in your hand?”

“N—No.”

“Right, because they aren’t matter!” Marcel says, chuckling again before adding “but they do _matter_ ” with a wink.

Louis finds himself grinning in answer to Marcel’s absolute cheesiness and excitement over Louis getting the answer right. He realizes quite suddenly why Marcel is the person tutoring him. “Oh wow. You’re just a big old science geek, aren’t you?”

It only occurs to Louis after he’s said it that his comment could be construed as making fun of Marcel but in reality, Louis is delighted at this news. Thankfully, Marcel seems to understand because he just smiles wider.

“The geek shall inherit the Earth, baby,” he says with a beautiful smirk that makes Louis’ heart trip up in his chest.

“I believe it’s ‘the meek’ but, okay,” Louis laughs.

Marcel shrugs, eyes raising to look at something over Louis’ shoulder and then he’s cursing. “Oh shit, is that the time? I’m sorry, Louis. I’ve gotta get going.”

“It’s alright,” Louis says glancing at the clock on the wall too and then reaching down to pick his book bag up from where it rests at his feet. “I should probably get going too. Thank you. For helping me and just… putting up with me.”

“I didn’t _put up_ with anything. You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for, Louis, and one day I’m gonna get you to see that,” Marcel tells him, stuffing his Chemistry book into his bag and fastening it shut.

“I look forward to it,” Louis replies, giving Marcel a warm grin. It’s kind of nice to have someone believe in him, even if it doesn’t last long.

“See you on Monday?”

“Yeah, Monday,” Louis agrees, rising from his chair. He’d been given a schedule for these tutor sessions and he’ll be meeting Marcel every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday until he doesn’t need tutoring anymore. He was dreading it before but now, he thinks maybe it’ll be okay. “Same place?”

“Sure,” Marcel says, giving Louis a wave as he says, “see you then” and turns toward the door. He pauses, seems to hesitate and then turns back to Louis. “There’s a… well, not exactly a _party,_ but a gathering, I guess you could call it, on Saturday at my mate Niall’s house, if you wanna go?”

“Um.”

“I just figured, you’re new here, so. It might be a nice chance to get to know some people,” Marcel shrugs as he continues to try (badly) to persuade Louis to do something he’s already dying to say yes to.  “Honestly, there’s a very big possibility that it might bore the living shit out of you, but I mean, the people are nice… and there’ll be food!” His brow furrows as he corrects himself. “Maybe not good food. Niall likes to put string cheese on everything and then coerce other people to eat it too, but I still maintain that _that_ is not cheese.”

“Marcel!” Louis calls out to him, just loud enough to catch his attention without earning another admonishment from the librarian. “I’d love to go. Sounds like fun.”

“Really?” Marcel says, a look of shock on his face. “I mean, I’m glad. But were we having the same conversation? Because I’m pretty sure I failed to make that sound any fun at all.”

“Do you have a phone?” Louis asks with a laugh, taking the phone Marcel hands him and typing his number into the contacts. “There,” he says, handing it back. “Just text me the time and address. I’ll be there.”

“Okay,” Marcel says biting his lips and Louis gets the impression that he’s trying not to ramble again. It’s kind of adorable. “I’ll, uh, see you then, I guess.”

“See you then,” Louis agrees as they walk out the door together and then head in separate directions.

 

***Saturday, Niall’s House***

 

“Zayn, you can’t play that character anymore,” Marcel hears Niall say from where he’s gathering snacks and pointedly not looking at the clock in the kitchen. “He got killed off last week. You have to roll a new one.”

“And start from level one?” Zayn snaps, irritated already. “Like hell. Just pretend he didn’t die last week.”

“What’s the point if there’s no consequences for your actions?” Liam asks very reasonably. This is why Liam is an invaluable Dungeon Master (DM) in their weekly Dungeons & Dragons game. They need someone reasonable to keep them in line.

“The point is, _Liam_ , that it’s a game and it’s supposed to be fun,” Zayn drawls, picking up a piece of popcorn from the bowl as Marcel sets it on the table and flicking it at their DM.

Marcel sits in his seat next to Niall and watches his friends squabble over a fictional, possibly dead character (he wants to make a Schrödinger joke so badly) and thinks he might regret inviting Louis to this madhouse.

“If it makes you feel any better, Louis will be starting at level one too. I mean, if he wants to play,” Marcel inserts when there’s a lull in the argument.

“Yes, let’s talk about Louis,” Niall says, eyes gleaming in such a way that Marcel is immediately aware that he’s made a grave mistake. “So what are we doing here? Do we think he’s cool enough to be a permanent fifth member of our squad? Or do we have more _romantic_ intentions for him.”

“Well, I hope _we_ don’t have romantic intentions for him,” Zayn gives Niall an unimpressed stare. “I’m not that great at sharing.”

“Aww, baby, I love you too,” Niall tells him, blowing him a kiss for good measure.

Marcel rolls his eyes at his best friends. “There’s no agenda,” he tells them, looking directly at Niall when he says it. “He’s just new to town and I thought maybe he could use some friends.”

“So, how did he react to…, you know,” Zayn asks, petting at one of his ears while giving Marcel a significant look.

“Not bad,” Marcel assures, feeling his own ears flatten against his head a little in embarrassment at the memory. “He was a little shocked at first and I thought we might have a problem but he was pretty cool in the end.”

“Is he cute?” Niall asks, wiggling his eyebrows at Marcel even as Marcel responds to the gesture with flat look.

“Ow,” Marcel cries out, turning a questioning stare on Zayn.

“Sorry, wrong leg,” Zayn says, swinging his foot out again.

“Ow!” Niall groans.

“Quit wondering if other guys are cute,” Zayn mutters, stealing Liam’s dice to roll up a new character.

“I’m not wondering for _me_. I’ve seen _you_ , babe. No one else can cut it for me now,” Niall smolders at his boyfriend and Marcel is quick to move when Zayn starts preening and flicking his tail flirtatiously. A moment later, he’s in Niall’s lap, licking into his mouth and curling his tail around the two of them.

“Maybe we should cancel the game,” Liam tells Marcel, warily watching the couple making out. “This is not an appropriate environment for potential new squad members.”

“It’s not appropriate for old squad members either,” Marcel replies, stealing Zayn’s old chair and reaching out to cover Liam’s eyes with one hand while he takes over building Zayn’s new character with the other.

“Shut up, we’re making out over here,” Niall mumbles between kisses.

“We’re aware,” Liam responds tonelessly, still tucked safely behind Marcel’s hand. He turns to Marcel. “What time did you tell Louis to come?”

“One o’clock,” Marcel answers. He’s still not checking the time. He’s much too busy giving Zayn a +2 constitution to be worrying if Louis will be arriving anytime soon.

“It’s 1:10 now.”

Marcel can’t stop himself from looking at the clock this time. Surely, Liam is mistaken. He’s not though, the minute hand seconds from ticking over to 1:11 when Marcel looks. Louis is late. Or perhaps he’s not coming.

“Oh.” Marcel’s unprepared for how disappointed he is. He didn’t realize how much hope he’d put into the idea of Louis showing up today.

“Did he text or anything?” Liam asks sensibly.

Marcel can feel the hope beginning to build again as he reaches for his phone to check but it all crashes down in a pile of rubble at his feet when he sees no new messages on his phone.

“No, there’s nothing,” he says, setting his phone on the table next to him and picking up the dice again. He rolls and pretends that Zayn’s new stats are all that’s important.

“Well, I’m sure he would text if he wasn’t coming,” Liam says, putting a soft hand on Marcel’s shoulder.

Marcel shrugs, trying to inconspicuously shrug off the comfort he’s trying to tell himself he doesn’t need. He barely knows Louis. He shouldn’t care this much if he shows up or not.

“Who isn’t coming?” Niall asks, pulling away from Zayn’s lips and looking dazedly at his friends across the table.

“You,” Marcel mutters dropping his pen to grab a handful of popcorn and toss it in Niall’s face. “Now, separate!”

“Aw, come on!” Niall protests, holding his arms up to protect himself from the barrage of popcorn as Liam starts in on him too. “It’s my house!”

“I’m not cleaning any of this up,” Zayn informs them calmly, picking a popcorn kernel off his boyfriend’s shirt and popping it into his mouth.

“You’re next,” Marcel warns.

Zayn narrows his eyes. “You mess up my hair, you die.”

Marcel shrugs. “Rumor has it, I may have nine lives.”

“You’re gonna find out if it’s just a rumor if you throw that popcorn.”

Marcel pauses, assessing the situation. Honestly, he could probably take Zayn normally but when it comes to his hair…

“If you don’t stop, I’m breaking out the string cheese,” Niall shouts through his laughter as he retaliates, tossing popcorn back at Liam, who cowers behind Marcel’s chair.

“Please no!” Marcel shudders. “Liam! Cease and desist!”

They’re just getting the popcorn picked up and Marcel’s waiting on a new bag to pop in the microwave when the doorbell rings and everyone freezes.

 

*****

 

Louis is twenty minutes late. He paced the floor in front of his door at home for a good half hour until his mum had pulled into the drive. The second he had seen her, he’d hurried out to take the keys from her and kiss her cheek before ducking into the car to type the address Marcel had given him into the GPS. He probably should have texted but every time he went to, he’d convinced himself he heard the car pulling in only to find a truck driving by or something.

He stands on some stranger’s porch pressing on the doorbell and shifting restlessly until a boy he thinks looks vaguely familiar answers the door.

“Yeeees?” The boy questions and Louis’ eyes automatically roam to the numbers on the house. They match the address Marcel gave him.

“Um, hi,” Louis replies, tone unsure. “Is Marcel here?”

“Never heard of ‘im,” the guys shrugs, before he’s pushed out of the way by none other than the boy in question.

“Let him in, Niall,” Marcel grouses, looking grumpy and adorable. Louis struggles not to gravitate towards him. “Hey, Louis.”

“Hey,” Louis answers. He feels shy and unsteady with this ‘Niall’ person watching them intently from the sidelines while they stand there in silence. “Oh,” Louis starts, remembering his manners. “Sorry I’m late. I had to watch my sisters until me mum got home from work.”

“It’s alright,” Marcel says, waving away the apology. “We haven’t started yet anyway.”

“Started?” Louis asks, eyes flicking over to Niall who’s still just standing there watching them.

“Oh. Yeah. I kind of forgot to explain that part. We play Dungeons & Dragons. That’s… that’s what the gathering is,” Marcel answers and Louis feels like he’s watching him for his reaction.

“Like from that tv show with the kids and the demigorgon?” Louis asks. He’s only seen the show in passing but he wants to watch all of it eventually. It looks too scary for him to watch at home where his sisters might stumble into the room and then have nightmares for the rest of their lives.

“Stranger Things?” Niall suggests, butting into the conversation now that he has something interesting to talk about. “Hell yeah. I love that show.”

“Louis, this is Niall,” Marcel introduces, “the embarrassing one.”

“Fuck off,” Niall says, pushing Marcel aside playfully as he walks back into his house. “Come on in, Louis,” he says over his shoulder as he walks. “You can take Marcel’s place since he’s so embarrassed of me.”

Louis looks to Marcel, sees the way he’s smiling like this is a normal, everyday occurrence. He merely shrugs at Louis when he catches him staring, so Louis smiles back. “Great,” he says, following Niall into the house with Marcel on his heels. “I think maybe we should keep Marcel though. You know, as a backup.”

Niall sighs, very put-upon. “If we must.” He stops at a round dining table with a mat spread out on it that seems to have a map of some kind drawn on. Papers, pencils, dice, and some popcorn litter the table too. In two of the chairs around the table sit two brand new people. Niall stands behind one of them, a pretty boy with black cat ears and a tail that winds around Niall’s leg once he’s close enough.

“Louis this is my boyfriend, Zayn,” Niall introduces, putting his hands on the pretty hybrid’s shoulders, looking down at him with adoration that he doesn’t see because he’s currently scrutinizing Louis.

“Hi,” Louis sticks up a hand in a sort of wave. He’s a little too aware of Marcel standing behind him and feels a surge of desire to have Marcel’s friends like him. He’s been feeling little bursts of insecurity since he was invited to hang out with them and it’s not that Louis is afraid he won’t make friends. He’s afraid his crush won’t find him worthy if his friends can’t see anything worthwhile in him either. It’s stupid, he’s only spent a few hours with Marcel since they met, but Marcel’s left a lasting impression in his wake.

“Hey,” Zayn says eyeing Louis thoughtfully before eventually giving him a nod. It feels like Louis’ passed some kind of test.

The other boy in the room clears his throat, drawing everyone’s attention to him as he stands and offers his hand to Louis. “I’m Liam,” he says with a warm smile that turns wry as he adds, “since Niall seems to have forgotten anyone but Zayn exists again.”

Louis chuckles when Niall flips Liam off. “It’s nice to meet you,” he tells Liam, shaking his hand. “I’m Louis.”

A warm hand on the small of his back makes Louis’ skin tingle even through the fabric of his shirt as Marcel directs him towards a seat and starts explaining about building a character. It’s a lot but it gets easier when Marcel lets Louis watch him finish rolling up a new character for Zayn while the others joke and pal around. Louis likes the atmosphere. He’s already having a good time and they haven’t even done anything.

In the end, Louis ends up picking a character that they don’t already have one of in their group. He’s an elf of the rogue class. He wasn’t picky about his race but the class resonates with him. That isn’t the only reason he chooses it though. He’s not even sure if he’s going to like this game yet. He just really likes the idea that they might need him in their party. And if they need him, maybe they’ll keep him.

 

*****

 

“There’s a large door cracked open in front of you,” Liam tells them. “It’s an otherwise empty room. There’s no other way forward and the way back is barred with magic.”

“Let’s kick that fucker in!” Niall shouts through a mouthful of crackers and string cheese.

Marcel makes a face at the crumbs that go spraying when Niall says it though he’s not certain if it’s the errant food or the suggestion that horrifies him more. “Please, Niall,” he pleads uselessly. “A little finesse.”

“What’s that?” Niall asks with a laugh, spraying that orange hell-food straight into his mouth. Marcel cringes.

“I walk up to the door and peek inside, see if I can see or hear anything,” Zayn says, side-eying his boyfriend and trying to pretend he’s not tempted to smile. His tail is wrapped around Niall’s bicep and Marcel has to take stock of what his own tail is doing when he feels an absurd urge to mirror them, pulling his tail back just in time to keep from embarrassing both himself and Louis. He sits on it, just in case.

“Wait,” Louis says, holding up a hand to get the whole party’s attention before Liam can accept the action and move forward. “Shouldn’t we check for traps first or something? I mean, there’s magic sealing the door behind us. We already walked into one trap, who’s to say this isn’t another one?”

“Fair point,” Zayn nods thoughtfully. “Your perception is higher than the rest of us. You should be the one to roll it.”

“Ok, yeah, perception.” Louis agrees, reaffirming his intentions for their DM and borrowing Marcel’s 20-sided die (a d20) to roll for perception and see what he can detect. It’s a 13 with a +8 from his character sheet. “Twenty-one,” he tells Liam, who’s been waiting patiently.

“Plus two to perception because you’re an elf,” Marcel reminds him.

“Right,” Louis nods to himself. “Twenty-three, then.”

“You detect no traps,” Liam says.

“Okay,” Zayn grins, clapping his hands together. “I walk up to the door and see if I can see or hear anything,” he repeats, rolling his own d20 for perception.

Liam chuckles when Zayn rolls a 1.

“Oooh, critical fail!” Niall goads.

“You don’t see or hear anything because you trip over your feet and hit your head on the door. You may have a concussion. In fact, roll a reflex save,” Liam says with a smug grin.

“Fuck off,” Zayn mutters, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. He refuses to pick up the dice.

“Okay,” Liam laughs with a shrug of his shoulders, “Two points of damage.”

Zayn sneers, standing up with such force that his chair rocks back on two legs before hitting the floor on all feet again. “I quit.”

“Aww, baby,” Niall hurries to follow him as he stalks out of the room.

Liam gets up to refill their snack bowls like nothing unusual has just happened and Louis turns to Marcel with a concerned frown.

“Don’t worry,” Marcel says, scratching behind an ear. “This happens at least once a session. He’ll be back after Niall calms him down.”

“Oh. Okay,” Louis says, sounding unsure. He glances in the direction the other two boys disappeared, biting his lip before he asks. “Is he gonna be alright though?”

“Yeah, um,” Marcel’s tail half swishes in little motions behind his chair, unable to move much with him sitting on it. He’s a little nervous about answering because he doesn’t know how Louis will respond but he tells the truth anyway. “It’s a hybrid thing, I think. Sometimes we can be really sensitive.”

“Isn’t everyone on occasion?” Louis asks with a shrug. He’s probably heard the stories, how hybrids will get angry over the smallest things. There are even some urban legends about them sprouting claws and taking a swipe at people. They’re not true in the slightest and Marcel gets the impression that if Louis _has_ heard the stories, he doesn’t put much stock into them.

Marcel gives him a little smile, glad that his new friend seems to be someone worthy of the title. “I suppose, yeah.”

“Hey,” Louis says, leaning in closer to Marcel as he attempts to change the subject. “That room we went through with all the hands cut off the statues?”

“Yeah?” Marcel asks, curiosity urging him to lean in too. “What about it?”

“I wanted so badly to make a joke about using my _sleight of hand_ skill.”

Marcel rewards him with a loud cackle that has Louis giving him a proud smile.

“Do it next time,” Marcel laughs, holding his hand up for Louis to slap with a high five. “Please.”

 

*****

 

“So, uh, thanks for inviting me. I had a lot of fun,” Louis says, shifting on his feet just outside Niall’s front door.

“I’m glad you came,” Marcel replies. “You did really well for a first timer.”

Louis bites his lip and it’s pretty clear that he’s trying to hold in a laugh. It’s doesn’t hit Marcel why it’s so funny until Louis snorts, unable to keep it in any longer.

“You make it sound like I just lost my virginity,” Louis giggles. “And that it was a questionable experience.”

“Shut up,” Marcel rolls his eyes fondly. Yes. He’s _fond_ of Louis. So sue him. “I mean, you _did_ lose your D &D virginity.”

Louis quirks an eyebrow at him. “If there is actual sex with dragons in this game, I quit right now.”

His mouth is still turned up at the edge so Marcel knows he’s just joking, but the thought of the next session going on without Louis in it seems colorless and undesirable.

“I mean, it’s really up to the DM what’s in the game unless he’s just running a scenario from the book. But does Liam really seem like the dragon sex type?”

Louis shrugs, eyes alight with mirth. “It’s always the quiet ones, right?”

“You’re terrible,” Marcel says with a huff of a laugh.

They stand there in silence for a moment. It’s dark out now and both of them need to head home but neither seems ready to. _Why does this feel like the end of a date?_ Marcel wonders as his heart thuds at a rabbit’s pace in his chest.

Finally, Louis breaks the silence with shy, “Too terrible to be invited back?”

“Just right to be invited back,” Marcel is quick to allay his fears. “You fit right in here.”

“Cool,” Louis nods once. He seems pleased and that makes something in Marcel glow with contentment.

“So, uh,” Marcel runs a hand through his hair, the tip of his ear tickling his wrist. “See you Monday.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Louis agrees, backing away to head to his car with slow steps. “See you Monday.”

 

***Monday, School***

 

“Louis!” A familiar voice calls out over the boisterous din of the lunch room.

Louis looks around until he finds the source halfway across the room, waving at him like he’s a long lost friend come home. Louis grins, grateful to have someone to sit with and joins Niall at his table.

“Hey,” Louis says, as he sets down his tray, following up the movement by dropping into the chair next to Niall’s. “Thanks for letting me sit here.”

“As if we’d let you go anywhere else,” Niall snorts like the mere thought is preposterous. “You’re one of us now, lad. Hope you like us, cuz you’re stuck now.”

Louis chuckles as Liam appears, pulling out a seat on Niall’s other side. “What’s stuck?”

“Your zipper,” Niall quips. “Good God, Liam. You’re flashing everyone!”

Liam hurriedly checks his zipper but looks up at Niall, unsmiling, a second later. “Not funny.”

“I thought it was funny. Was it funny, Louis?” Niall asks, catching Louis off-guard.

“Um, I—” Louis has to bite his lip not to laugh even now but he’s not sure if the friendship bonds Niall claims he’s stuck with are so unbreakable already. “No comment?”

“Oh, don’t puss out on me now, Louis!” Niall scoffs.

“Shut up,” Liam says, socking Niall in the shoulder. “He’s a better friend than you are.”

“Hmm,” Niall shrugs carelessly. “If I can’t have a bit of fun at my best mate’s expense, what’s the point?”

“Aww, I love you too, Niall,” Liam coos, smothering Niall in a hug that he tries and fails to break out of.

Louis covers his laughter with a hand. He doubts he’ll mind being stuck with these guys for friends.

Eventually, Liam let’s Niall go and they settle in to actually eat their lunch.

“So, Louis,” Niall starts when it’s been quiet for a few minutes.

“So, Niall,” Louis grins, leaning in for whatever questions Niall has to ask as he takes a sip of his apple juice

“What are your intentions toward our dear friend Marcel?”

Louis chokes on his drink. “Intentions?” He squeaks out.

“Yeah,” Niall says, picking up his sandwich. “Do you _intend_ to pretend you don’t have a thing for him? Or are we gonna be honest here?”

“Um.” Louis glances around the cafeteria, half-worried Marcel is going to pop up behind him.

“Don’t worry,” Liam assures him, like the decent person he is. “Marcel and Zayn have second lunch.”

“Yeah, so you can tell us everything. We can keep a secret.” Niall wiggles his eyebrows, already laughing at himself.

Louis sighs because he’s a big fat pushover. “He’s cute.”

“Awwwwwww,” Niall coos, his voice pitched higher than normal and his nose crinkles and his shoulders raise. “I knew it!”

Louis rolls his eyes. This guy is ridiculous and Louis wants to keep him even if he is embarrassing. “I don’t have any intentions beyond just…,” Louis shrugs, unsure of how to put it to words. “I like him, I guess? If he ends up liking me too, great! And if he doesn’t, well, at least I made a friend, you know?”

Niall keeps smiling at Louis like a proud mother about to send their child out on their first date and it’s making Louis’ cheeks burn a little. Liam nods at him with a resigned twitch of his mouth when Louis glances his way, like he _gets it_.

“You can’t tell him,” Louis says quickly. He knows Niall said they could keep a secret. But he didn’t say he _would_. “Please don’t.”

“Yeah, of course,” Niall shrugs casually like he wouldn’t dream of it, but there’s something shifty about his gaze.

“Or Zayn,” Liam says quickly about the same time it occurs to Louis to make the addendum.  Louis is glad that Liam at least is not a meddling mom, especially when Niall pouts, caught out.

“He’s my boyfriend. I can’t keep secrets from him!” Niall complains.

“You’re the one who said we could keep a secret,” Liam says, patting his shoulder with false sympathy as he winks at Louis. “You’re just gonna have to suck it up, Nialler.”

Niall huffs grumpily and shakes off Liam’s hand. “ _Fine._ Fine. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Louis pats Niall’s other shoulder. “Thanks, pal.”

When Marcel brings up at their tutoring session that Niall told him about having lunch with Louis, a spark of panic shoots down his spine. But all Marcel does is ask him how it went and if he thinks having lunch with Niall and Liam will be a regular occurrence. Louis answers in the affirmative. Niall may be an embarrassing mom and Liam may be mostly quiet, but Louis likes them. They make him feel like he belongs.

 

***Wednesday, After School***

 

Louis wipes at his eyes, brow furrowing when his hand drops. He’s obviously trying, Marcel can tell that, but he just looks so tired and that can’t be helping him concentrate on their tutoring session.

“Hey,” Marcel says softly in the quiet library. “Are you okay?”

He’s sitting next to Louis today instead of across from him. It’s easier to study that way, to see what Louis sees when he’s working from the chemistry book, to show Louis examples when he needs them without the confusion of watching Marcel write them out upside down.

Louis’ arm is laying on the table between them and Marcel puts his hand over Louis’, giving a supportive squeeze.

“We can take a break if you need to,” he says, watching Louis for any kind of reaction.

Louis’ thumb curls over and lightly caresses Marcel’s pinkie. Such a small gesture probably shouldn’t feel so electric. “Thanks, but if we stop, I’m not going to want to start again.”

Marcel studies the boy next to him. His hair, though pushed back in a black headband, still looks disheveled, and there’s exhaustion in the slump of his shoulders.

“So we skip a day,” Marcel decides, pulling his hand back from Louis’ to start putting his stuff away.

Louis gives him a look of surprise. “Aren’t you supposed to encourage me to keep going?”

“Yeah, and I will.” Marcel stands pulling on his book bag. “When it’s actually going to help you and not just add to your frustrations.”

Louis snorts softly to himself. “Was I that bad today?”

“No, Louis,” Marcel assured him, pulling Louis up from his seat too. “But I can tell that you’re tired and it’s not helping. Go home, get some rest.”

When Louis doesn’t move, Marcel starts gathering Louis’ things for him, putting them in his bag and handing it over when he’s done. Louis hesitates but takes the bag, smiling minutely for a second.

“Thanks but, home is sort of the problem right now,” Louis tells him, one hand lifting to rub guiltily at the back of his neck. “My mum and her boyfriend are preparing for their wedding and it means my sisters aren’t getting as much of their attention. They’re keyed up and they turn to me a lot to give them the attention they want. And I _want_ to give it to them, I do. I just… need some time of my own sometimes.”

“You can come to mine, if you want?” Marcel suggests, feeling his stomach flip even as he says the words. “I only have one sister and she’s away at Uni. Mum works late too, so. Should be pretty quiet at my house.”

“Are you sure?”

Louis looks so hesitant and Marcel wants to wipe all of that uncertainty and fatigue right off his face.

“Of course,” Marcel says, wrapping an arm around Louis’ neck and steering him towards the door. “What are friends for?”

He doesn’t watch Louis when he ends up falling asleep in Marcel’s bed. He doesn’t think about how soft and peaceful Louis looks, lying there, eyelids twitching as he dreams. And he definitely doesn’t glance at those kissable lips, parted slightly as he breathes. Marcel doesn’t do any of those things. He goes down to the living room and calls to let his mom know they may be having a guest for supper.

 

***Friday, After School***

 

“Moving our tutoring sessions to your house, might have been a bad idea,” Louis says, chuckling as he looks around Marcel’s room, taking in everything he was too tired to notice last time. “It’s a little more distracting than the library.”

It was really nice of Marcel to let him crash at his house last time. And Louis had desperately needed the break. Louis can’t help forming hopes about what it means for their friendship that Marcel keeps letting him see into the private parts of his life. He’d even invited Louis to supper with his mother last time and Louis would have stayed if he hadn’t been expected back home.

“Alright,” Marcel says sternly, coming up to grasp Louis by the shoulders and steer him away from the photos and posters on Marcel’s walls. “Studying first, snooping later.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” Louis promises, flopping into the desk chair that Marcel pushes him towards.

Marcel rolls his eyes fondly and plops down on his bed, pulling his book bag to himself to get out his chemistry book. “Where were we,” he asks and Louis can feel him pointedly ignoring his comment.

After an hour of studying, Louis’ frustrations must be showing. Marcel closes his book and sets it aside.

“I think it’s a good time for a break.”

“You’re not going to hear me complain,” Louis agrees immediately, tossing his book on Marcel’s desk uncaring of how it lands. He stands from the chair, stretching his limbs. “Does that mean I get to snoop now?”

Marcel groans but it’s chased with a light laughter. “Sure. Snoop away.” He gestures at the whole of his room with one hand. “There’s nothing all that interesting in here anyway.”

“On the contrary, I am very intrigued by _this_ ,” Louis says, walking over and waving his hands over a giant poster of N*Sync. “Personally, I had a thing for the Backstreet Boys, especially Howie, but these guys aren’t bad either. What’s your excuse?” Louis turns to Marcel, one eyebrow raised playfully as he waits for an explanation.

Marcel scoffs out a little laugh, head lowering so that his gaze is on the floor.

Louis moves closer, nudging Marcel in the shoulder to make him look up again. “Oh no,” Louis jeers, “You’re not allowed to be embarrassed about this. Especially not when a love of boybands is something that we have in common.”

“Um,” Marcel flushes, glancing up at the poster and then away again. “It’s not… they’re not unattractive or anything, and I like their music, sure. But that’s not why I have the poster.” He toys with one of his ears and Louis is a little bit mesmerized by the action. He forgets sometimes that Marcel is a hybrid.

Louis turns to the poster again, searching for what makes it special, seeking out the reason Marcel would keep such a relic on his wall.

“If you look right here,” Marcel’s arm reaches past Louis to point at a small spot of discoloration in Lance’s hair, “you can see it.”

“Is he—” Louis squints, and sure enough, if he looks closely, the outline of a cat ear tucked down and trying to remain hidden comes into view. “He’s a hybrid.”

“Yeah,” Marcel says quietly, looking away when Louis turns to him. “At first, I was amazed. I thought it was so awesome to one of us that had made it big somehow. He wasn’t using it as a gimmick to further his career, he was just succeeding on his own. But then, when the band split apart and they didn’t have people telling them what to do anymore, he came out as hybrid. And it wasn’t that he had been succeeding while being a hybrid, it was that he had been succeeding while _hiding_ being a hybrid.”

“Marcel.” The name falls softly from Louis’ lips. He can’t imagine what it must feel like, finding out someone you looked up to was basically a fraud. “Were you mad at him?”

Marcel stares up at the smiling face of the boybander who could have made all the difference to him if he hadn’t been forced to hide himself. “No,” he says calmly, serenely. “He had no choice. If he wanted to make it, he had to hide who he was or he never would have been allowed in the band. I just… I keep it as a reminder that we can make something of our lives, but I never wanna have to hide myself to do it.”

“Good,” Louis says, rubbing over the bottom corner of the old poster where it’s coming loose from the wall. It doesn’t stick, the tape too old to have much staying power left in it. “You shouldn’t have to.”

Marcel’s stare is waiting to meet him when he looks over, a soft intensity there as he asks, “You really think so?”

Louis melts under that gaze, his legs feel wobbly as he take a step closer. “Of course, I do. You’re not deficient because you’re different. And you’re not any less human than the rest of us. In fact, I think maybe you’re something more than human, better even.”

Marcel smiles at his words, a shy, little thing that somehow has the power to set Louis’ every nerve ending on fire.

“Thank you for saying that.”

“You don’t have to thank me for the truth,” Louis shrugs, moving on to look at a photo on Marcel’s dresser before he does something awkward, like confess his feelings. It’s probably a little too soon for that. “Is this your family?”

“Yeah, my mum and my sister.”                                                        

“Is your sister…” Louis lets the question fade out, unsure if it’s rude to ask.

“Like me?” Marcel finishes the thought, shaking his head. “Nope. I’m the only one. We didn’t even know the gene ran in the family until I was born. Then my parents found out that my dad had a great aunt who was hybrid. And a great, great granddad. Apparently, it can skip several generations.”

“That must have been hard, not having anyone else around like you,” Louis says, glancing over at Marcel. He’s still staring at the picture of his mom and sister, something like longing in his eyes and Louis wonders if he wishes he were just like everyone else.

“It wasn’t that hard at first. I was too young to understand what was going on when my dad left, so it didn’t affect me much. And my mum and sister loved me, treated me just like they treated each other,” he says, turning his gaze on Louis, eyes searching his, perhaps seeking understanding. “You don’t really notice how different you are from other people until you see your reflection or someone points it out to you. When it was just us, I didn’t notice that neither of them had a tail or ears like I did, because I didn’t really notice my own beyond tugging on my tail when I was anxious. But then I started school and everyone made it a point to tell me just how different I was.”

He turns back to the photo and Louis can see the way the corner of Marcel’s mouth turns up as he looks at his family. “I’ve had my ups and down. I know I’m more vulnerable to emotional outbursts and I had a love/hate relationship with my tail for a while. But my family and friends are what made me realize that I like who I am. And I don’t need to change for anyone.”

Louis feels something moving against his leg and looks down to see Marcel’s tail poking at him. It wraps loosely around his calf for a second and has Louis’ chest warming at the thought that maybe Marcel is including him in that list of people who make him feel comfortable in his own skin. Nearly as quickly as it’s there it’s gone again, but Louis can still feel it long after he goes home that night.

 

***Saturday***

 

Marcel pulls up to a house that looks just like any other. It’s small, considering Marcel knows that six— soon to be seven— people are living there, but it’s nice, well kept. He turns into the drive, prepared to get out of the car and go knock on the front door. But the person he came for is racing out towards him before he can even turn off the ignition.

“Go, go!” Louis laughs as he hops into the car, dropping a book bag at his feet and rushing to buckle in.

Marcel puts the car in reverse and does as requested. He’s halfway down the road headed to Niall’s for another Saturday afternoon of D&D when he sees someone else giving chase from the house in the rearview.

“What’s that about?” Marcel asks, glancing over at Louis who’s turned in his seat watching a small platinum blonde curse them from the edge of their front garden with a massive smile on his face. Marcel smiles at the sight. Louis’ happiness is contagious.

“Lottie was trying to leave early and get out of the house before me. That would mean waiting another half an hour _at least_ for my mum to get home,” Louis answers, turning to get comfortable in his seat. “She thinks because she’s got a boyfriend now that she has to spend every minute with him.” He rolls his eyes but seems mostly unbothered. His smile hasn’t diminished.

“It was your brotherly duty to put her in her place,” Marcel comments jokingly, hands clutching the wheel a little more tightly. There’s a bubble of excitement in his belly and he doesn’t really understand why it’s there. All he knows is that he really likes seeing Louis smile.

“Right?” Louis asks, directing that sunshine-bright grin his way. “She’ll learn not to try breaking her promises again.”

The car falls quiet for a moment and Marcel feels that feeling in his stomach swell. The silence feels blissful and worry-free. Marcel hasn’t had that feeling for a long time.

“Hey, thanks for picking me up,” Louis’ soft voice breaks the quiet, the back of his hand running lightly down Marcel’s arm. It’s just supposed to be a nudge, he’s sure of it, but that knowledge doesn’t stop the goosebumps from rising on Marcel’s flesh, sending shivers through his body.

Words are difficult as Marcel tries to keep his concentration for the drive. “Happy to,” is all he can seem to manage.

 

***Still Saturday, Niall’s House***

 

“Don’t open that fucking door, Niall,” Zayn glares, tail flicking side to side behind him in irritation. “I’m telling you, it’s the demigorgon! And we’re not strong enough to face it yet.”

“ _Or_ , it could be the treasure that the map mentioned. We’ll never find it if we don’t take a few risks,” Niall reasons, trying to rub his boyfriend’s shoulder in a soothing manner only to be rebuffed when Zayn pulls away.

“Fine.” Zayn crosses his arms in a huff. “Don’t listen to me. But don’t touch me either. You know I don’t like being touched when I’m irritated.” He scoots his chair a little bit away from Niall, leaving Niall biting the inside of his cheek regretfully.

“Well, what do you guys think?” Niall turns to Louis and Marcel for their opinions.

“I’m with Zayn,” Louis says apologetically. “Liam even said the door had an ominous feel to it.”

“I did,” Liam agrees but his face isn’t giving away if that actually means anything.

“It could be spelled to feel that way! To keep us from finding the treasure!” Niall slumps back in his seat, letting out an exasperated sigh.

Marcel looks at his watch. It’s been six hours since they started playing and tensions are running higher than usual. “It’s getting late, guys. Maybe we should call it a night here and pick it up next time when we’re all thinking more clearly.”

“Some of us are thinking just fine,” Zayn mutters, squinting reproachfully at Niall.

Niall blows out another exhale of frustration through his lips.

“I think Marcel is right,” Liam chances, eyes flicking around like he expects someone to attack him for agreeing as he slowly closes the notebook he’s been working from.  “We should probably pick up here next time.”

As everyone except Zayn rises and starts gathering their stuff to head home, Marcel catches Louis watching the way Niall tentatively prods at a stubborn Zayn.

“Babe,” Niall pokes him lightly. “You know I love you, right?”

“Not enough to not let me get killed by the demigorgon,” Zayn murmurs, turning his head away from Niall.

“You haven’t been killed! You can’t be mad at me for something that hasn’t even happened,” Niall pokes him again, chuckling when he hits a ticklish spot that makes Zayn flinch.

“Fine,” Zayn sighs, lowering his arms to cover his sides in hopes of stopping Niall’s assault. “I’ll be mad at you next time.”

“ _Yeah, ya will,_ ” Niall agrees cheerfully, leaning into his boyfriend who allows Niall a kiss and then another until they’ve apparently forgotten the whole argument. As well as the fact that there are still other people around.

“They’re cute,” Louis says looking over his shoulder at the enamored couple as he steps up to Marcel’s side. There’s something soft in his voice that goes beyond the affection he has for his new friends. _Longing?_ Marcel wonders.

“Usually,” Marcel agrees. “Are you ready?”

“Yep,” Louis grins but the grin slips from his face when he gets a text a second later. “Oh,” he says to himself as he reads and Marcel can hear so much disappointment in that single syllable.

“What’s wrong?” he asks Louis, leading the other boy towards the door that Liam has already vacated in his hurry to keep his delicate eyes from seeing anything explicit between their friends.

“It’s nothing,” Louis answers, tucking his phone away, but the light has died from his eyes so Marcel knows that can’t be true. “My mom’s boyfriend is staying over tonight.”

They walk out into the evening, the sky still lit up in the distance where the sun is fighting to stay just a little longer. Kind of like Louis, dragging his feet as they walk to Marcel’s beat up old car.

“Do you not like him?” Marcel asks once they’re both seated, keys in the ignition but he hesitates to start the car.

“No, he’s fine,” Louis says, shrugging. “He’s a perfectly nice guy. It’s just… I dunno,” Louis shakes his head with a rueful smile, looking down at his lap.

Marcel meets his eyes when he turns back to him.

“When they’re together, there’s this bubble around them that seems to dull everything else. Kind of like Niall and Zayn, I suppose,” Louis explains, gaze flicking to the house where his friends are probably still unaware that everyone else has left. “It’s cute and I’m happy for my mum, _I am_. She deserves a good guy. And I know it’s stupid but… it feels a bit like he’s stealing her away from the rest of us.”

“That’s not stupid,” Marcel says, reaching out to grip Louis’ shoulder. “I think every kid who’s had a parent get into a new relationship probably feels that a little. I know I did when my mum started seeing her boyfriend. And I imagine it’s got to be especially hard since your mum’s getting _married_ to this guy. You don’t need to feel guilty for not being happy about it one hundred percent of the time.”

Louis gives Marcel a little smile, fingers circling gratefully around Marcel’s wrist where his hand is still resting on Louis’ shoulder. “Thanks, Marcel.”

Marcel knows the moment’s over the second Louis lets go of his wrist. But he doesn’t want it to be. He’s suddenly very desperate to not have to take Louis home and give him back to his family. He wants to do a little stealing of his own. “Do you want to crash at my house for the night?” He blurts out. “To get away from those feelings for a bit.”

His heart is beating uncomfortably fast and he knows his ears are tucked in, as though they’re the ones who’ll feel rejected if Louis says no but he hopes Louis doesn’t notice either of those things as the sun gives up its fight and the night sinks into darkness beyond the car windows.

“Oh my god,” Louis breathes out, laughing in what sounds like relief. “Yes, please. I was dreading going home so badly.”

“Okay. Yes. Good,” Marcel mumbles, unsure what he’s feeling because there’s just _so many_ emotions going through him. One thought rings clear in the front of his mind though. “Uh, I should probably ask my mum first.”

“Oh,” Louis laughs again. “Me too.”

They both pull out their phones and spend a few minutes texting their respective mothers. Marcel sighs in relief when his agrees to let Louis sleep over even though the request is last minute.

“Good on my end,” he informs Louis, turning to see his friend smile back at him.

“Me too.”

 

***Later Saturday Evening***

 

From the second Louis is back in Marcel’s room, he’s filled with relief and a sense of comfort that he tries not to think too hard about. As they eventually settle in on Marcel’s bed to watch a film (Louis in a borrowed t-shirt and joggers), he has to keep himself from scooting too close and cuddling into Marcel’s side. It’s just them and a bag of crisps and Marcel’s soft duvet, bathed in a blue light from the television screen and Louis has to stop himself from glancing over at his friend every time the scene changes.

“I love this part,” Marcel whispers, eyes never leaving the screen, hand frozen on the way to the crisp bag like he can’t chance ruining the moment with noise.

Louis isn’t sure if Marcel is talking to him or reaffirming it for himself, but he pays close attention to the screen. He wants to know all the things that Marcel loves. It’s kind of a scary thought but one he’s coming to terms with. There’s been something special about Marcel from the moment they met.

The film is about a bunch of unruly rockstars and a teenaged journalist that’s just trying to get in interview but ends up getting swept away on tour with them and, as Louis tunes in for real, he gets consumed with the story. So consumed that he doesn’t realize that he and Marcel are leaning into each other’s sides until it’s over and Marcel has to pull away to take the film out of the DVD player.

Louis’ side feels cold but inside he feels toasty and content and he can’t seem to keep a smile from his face. “You know, I feel sad that I never would have watched that on my own.”

“It’s a great story, right?” Marcel smiles back at him as he puts the film away. “I saw it when it came out at the theater and fell in love.”

“It is. It’s really good,” Louis says, trying to hide a yawn behind his hand. He’s tired but he doesn’t want to sleep yet.

“You’re tired,” Marcel observes and moves to his closet to pull extra blankets out.

“I’m okay,” Louis insists but shrugs with a roll of his eyes when Marcel fixes him with a knowing look. “Alright, maybe I’m a _little_ tired.”

Marcel chuckles, laying the blankets out on the floor to make a little sleeping pallet. “You can have the bed. I’ll sleep down here,” he says, spreading them out further. “Can you toss me a pillow?”

“No,” Louis answers without thinking. Only correcting himself when Marcel lifts his head and raises a questioning eyebrow at him. “I mean, yes, I’ll give you a pillow,” he says, passing one over. “But I don’t want to kick you out of your bed. I’ll sleep down there.”

“Louis, you’re the—”

“Guest, I know,” Louis cuts him off, moving to kneel on the pallet so that Marcel knows he’s serious. “ And you’re just being polite but I refuse to let you do that so, go on, get in bed. I’m good down here.” He shoos an amused Marcel away as he lays on the pile of blankets, resting his head on the pillow.

“If you’re sure,” Marcel laughs, crawling into his bed. His tail swipes Louis’ leg as he moves before it, too, is tucked under Marcel’s duvet. “Good Night, Louis,” he says, reaching over to deposit his glasses on the night table and turn off the lamp.

“Night, Marcel,” Louis says, forcing his eyes closed and trying to quiet his mind that wants to keep racing with thoughts of soft fur and sweet laughter and crinkled, happy eyes.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep but he must have because he wakes to darkness and soft, pained whimpers coming from the bed.

“Marcel?” He calls quietly, sitting up from his pallet on the floor.

All Louis can make out in the sliver of moonlight shining in the window is a huddled lump on the bed. He moves to kneel next to it and reaches for Marcel’s shoulder, shaking him lightly. “Marcel?” He calls again.

The only answer is a high pitched whine followed by Marcel thrashing his head to the side. Louis removes his hand quickly so that Marcel doesn’t hurt either of them. The wounded sounds coming from Marcel’s throat won’t let him move away though. He rises to sit on the edge of the bed, softly brushing the mess of Marcel’s hair from his forehead. “Marcel,” He calls a little louder, taking one of his hands to hold, but it’s not until his other hand brushes Marcel’s ear that he wakes.

“Please don’t!” Marcel cries, his eyes opening wide in fear. He seems lost for a moment, staring at Louis and fighting for breath.

“It’s okay,” Louis whispers, squeezing Marcel’s hand and rubbing his arm soothingly. “It was just a dream. You’re okay.”

“Louis,” Marcel says, reaching for Louis with his other hand but drops it again before it can grasp onto him. “Lou.” His voice breaks and Louis can see the tears filling his eyes as Marcel throws his head back on his pillow. He stares at the ceiling, crying silently, and Louis’ heart breaks a little.

“Hey, you’re safe,” Louis promises, lying down next to Marcel, offering warmth and comfort and whatever else Marcel may need when he opens his arms and Marcel rolls into them, tucking his head under Louis’ chin. “It was just a dream, okay?”

“I couldn’t move, Louis,” Marcel mumbles into the swiftly dampening fabric of Louis’ shirt. “They had a knife to my ear and I couldn’t move.”

“It wasn’t real,” Louis reminds him softly, holding him tighter. “You’re so safe, kitten. I’ve got you.”

Louis tenses up when he realizes what he’s said, worried about offending the boy in his arms, but Marcel just snuggles closer, his tail brushing over Louis’ hand on his back in a repeated motion that has to be purposeful.

The night fills with quiet, only the sounds of Marcel’s sniffling and Louis’ slow breaths until they start to fall back asleep.

“Louis?” Marcel’s voice, soft and sleep-slurred, brings Louis back from the edge of slumber.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, kitten,” Louis says, brushing his thumb back and forth on Marcel’s back for a moment until he’s too tired to continue.

They fall asleep again wrapped up in each other, swathed in feelings of care, comfort, and safety.

 

***Sunday, Marcel’s House***

 

Marcel blinks awake on Sunday morning, feeling warm and content but still sleepy. He snuggles further into his pillow, planning to sleep for a few more minutes but a soft giggle freezes him in place. He can feel the vibrations of it under his cheek and he realizes quite suddenly that it’s because his pillow is not a pillow.

“That tickles,” Louis says, rubbing blindly at his chin where Marcel’s ears must have been brushing against him. Marcel can tell he’s still half asleep and he knows he should move. He _really_ doesn’t want to but he absolutely _should_ wriggle out of Louis’ arms and let him sleep in peace without Marcel slobbering all over his shirt.

He bites his lip, fighting the urge to just sink back down into Louis warmth and stay until the other boy wakes up too. Perhaps he likes the feel of Louis’ arms around him too much. Louis had offered him comfort when Marcel was at his most vulnerable, but maybe that’s all it was. What if Louis wakes up feeling awkward about having Marcel all over him?

Marcel can’t risk it. He can’t risk the look on Louis’ face if he’s weirded out or embarrassed when he wakes up and Marcel is still clinging to him. So he moves, very carefully, out of Louis’ arms and crawls over his body, stepping down onto the floor.

One step is as far as he gets before he’s tugged backwards again.

Turning, it only takes a second for Marcel to find what’s holding him back. His tail, double-crossing traitor that it is, is wrapped around Louis’ ankle. He tugs on it, but it stays firmly where it is, only sliding Louis’ leg closer to him when he pulls.

Marcel growls to himself. If he actually wanted to leave Louis’ side, this wouldn’t be a problem. But his therapist has likened his tail to his id, that part of everyone that is strictly instinctual, it wants what it wants and doesn’t compromise. And right now, Marcel wants Louis so his tail is manifesting that. _Stupid tail_.

He stands there and thinks about things he _needs_ . A shower, some clothes, _food_ . His tail loosens at the thought of food but not enough that Marcel can pull it free of Louis’ leg. Food is a basic need. It’s essential to survival and survival is an inherently instinctual thing. The thought of food should _work._ But apparently Marcel isn’t hungry enough for his tail to get the memo.

Narrowing his eyes at his tail, Marcel walks over and physically unwraps it from Louis’ ankle. He frowns down at it in his hands, turning slowly to leave the room. Before he knows it his tail is snaking out of his too-loose grasp and shoots right for Louis again. He catches it and he thinks he’s done it in time, it’s only just curled around Louis’ leg again, so when he pulls back and it _tightens_ at the exact same time, he can only watch in horror as Louis is yanked unceremoniously from the bed.

“What the—” Louis shouts as his back hits the floor and his head bounces back against the night table. “Ouch. Fuck.”

“Oh my god, Louis!” Marcel cries, kneeling down to check on his friend even as an embarrassed flush spreads across his own cheeks “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” Louis answers with squinted eyes, rubbing a hand through his hair that’s sticking up in all directions thanks to being so thoroughly jostled as he was ripped from the bed. “What happened?”

‘Uh. I have no idea. It looks like you rolled out of bed,” He says, slapping his tail away discretely when it starts trying to cause trouble again. “I’ll get you something for that bump on your head.”

Marcel rushes away to do as promised, his tail finally following behind obediently.

 

***Monday, After School***

 

Louis thought Marcel had been acting a little weird on Sunday before he’d gone home. He hadn’t turned his back on Louis even once after they’d woken up and Louis was worried he’d ruined everything by climbing into bed with him the night before. Marcel must have figured out Louis’ feelings and regretted letting him get so close.

He’d been saved from an awkward afternoon of not knowing whether he should just go home or not when his mother had called and requested his return so that she could take an extra shift at work. The wedding wasn’t going to pay for itself so he’d somewhat-reluctantly agreed and had to ask Marcel to take him home.

It was a quiet car ride and Louis’ heart had sank with each silent minute that passed.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Louis had said when they pulled up to his house. He expected it would be the last time but it was fun while it had lasted.

“Thanks for staying,” Marcel had replied, barely able to look at him. “And for helping me last night.”

Louis had nodded and opened the door, waving back to Marcel before turning and walking into his house.

He was half expecting Niall and Liam to have heard everything by lunch and to laugh at him or tell him to find a new table, but they’d just treated him like they always did.

Now, Louis is waiting in the library for their tutoring session because Marcel had texted him this morning saying they couldn’t go to his house. He hadn’t outright said it, but Louis figures this means that he’s officially uninvited from going back. It hurts far more than it probably should given the short amount of time they’ve known each other.

To be honest, Louis half expects Marcel not to show up today. He keeps going over Saturday night in his mind and wondering which part it was that damned him to lose Marcel. His crush means little compared to the feeling of losing the best friend he’s found here.

He plonks his head on the table, raising it back up just enough to see if the librarian is glaring at him for the noise. She’s giving him a concerned look that he appreciates instead so he offers her an apologetic smile before lowers his head again, more quietly. And he waits. Marcel is five minutes late already.

The click of the door opening, has Louis raising his head again. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees it’s Marcel but frowns with dejection when Marcel sits across from him instead of beside him. He should have expected that, he guesses.

“Hey,” Marcel says, hurrying to pull out his book and lay it open in front of them. “Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay,” Louis shrugs even though the feeling in his chest says that it’s not okay. At least he didn’t abandon Louis entirely though, right?

“Niall and Zayn’s anniversary is coming up and Niall wouldn’t let me leave until we had a plan for how he’s gonna make it special,” Marcel explains, rolling his eyes fondly. “As if Zayn _needs_ more pampering. Niall brings him ‘just because’ gifts every other day.”

Having Marcel talk about their shared friends makes something tight in Louis’ chest get a little looser. It feels… normal. Not like Marcel plans on kicking him to the kerb. “Can never have too much pampering,” Louis replies with a small, hopeful smile.

“Maybe,” Marcel says, smiling back at him. “I’m just worried that one day, Niall’s not going to have anything left to top himself with.”

“I guess he’ll just have to go back to the beginning and do it all over again. Let his commitment to always making Zayn happy be his best gift,” Louis replies thoughtfully.

Marcel stares at him, the dimple in his cheek showing. His eyes are full of affection and Louis knows how he feels. Niall and Zayn are good together and they deserve that happiness with each other for as long as possible.

“That’s a beautiful way of looking at it,” Marcel says, lips quirked up at the corner even as he switches gears, clearing his throat and saying they should get to work.

A few minutes into their session, Louis feels a tug on his leg and looks down to find the end of Marcel’s tail wrapped around his ankle. He smiles to himself, glancing up at Marcel but the boy is busy reading and doesn’t seem to have noticed. Maybe they’re okay after all. Maybe Louis hasn’t lost anything.

 

***Wednesday, After School***

 

Marcel rushes to the library. He’s late again. Niall keeps catching him after school and complaining that he doesn’t feel like he’s done enough for his anniversary this year. Thankfully, Liam was there today and pulled Niall away, letting the boy complain to him instead. He’d given Marcel a wink like Marcel was headed for a date or something instead of a tutoring session. Of course, after Marcel had complained to them about finding his tail wrapped around Louis’ ankle at the end of their last tutoring session, they’re all well aware that Marcel may have certain _feelings_ for their newest friend.

Marcel is just lucky Louis hadn’t noticed his tail last time or he’d probably have some explaining to do and that thought makes Marcel all kinds of jittery and nervous.

“Hey,” Louis smiles at him when he walks in. His eyes crinkle at the corners and his smile is so bright, like sunshine, it does _things_ to Marcel’s heart to have all that directed at him.

“Hey,” he says, almost rounding the table to sit next to Louis before he catches himself and drops into a chair across from him instead. A tail around the ankle is one thing, but if Marcel sits next to him, he’s going to end up with his tail around Louis’ waist or something equally embarrassing. He makes sure to sit on it this time, so it can’t betray him. “Sorry I’m late again. Niall.”

Louis laughs at the explanation. “I know. Liam and I got an earful at lunch. It’s really cute that he wants their anniversary to be perfect for Zayn.”

“Yeah. It’s sweet but he’s gotta know that Zayn would still love him even without the extravagant gifts and fancy plans,” Marcel scratches his ear, glancing at Louis. _He_ wouldn’t need gifts from someone as a token of affection, but he wonders if Louis would like them.

“That’s just the way some people show their love, I think.  My sister Felicite is the same way. She’s always making things to give to people. Mum calls it a ‘love language’. She read some book on it a while back. There are apparently five of them,” Louis says, brushing his hair back with his hand. He’s not wearing a headband today so it’s a bit of a mess bit Marcel thinks it looks good on him.

“So, if Niall’s love language is gifts, what’s yours?” Marcel asks, watching Louis curiously.

“My mum says it’s ‘acts of service’,” Louis answers, picking at his fingernails and looking down at the table. “You know, helping people when they need it. Like, when I do the dishes for her or watch the girls, it’s showing that I care. And I think she’s right because it makes me feel better when I can help make other people happy.”

Marcel has a sudden flashback to Saturday night, curled up on Louis’ chest in the dark. Louis’ soft, raspy voice rings in his ear. ‘ _You’re so safe, kitten. I’ve got you.’_

He can feel his cheeks flushing at the memory, at how wonderful it had felt to have someone call him ‘kitten’ and not mean it in a derogatory way. He can’t seem to forget how comfortable and happy he’d been in Louis’ arms.

Marcel fidgets in his seat, wondering if that night meant anything more to Louis or if it’s just become so ingrained in him to help people that he does it without a second thought. He wonders if his own way of showing love is more obvious. Does he broadcast his feelings for everyone to see or is it more ambiguous? He’s a little scared to find out but too curious not to ask.

“What do you think my love language is?”

Louis stops picking at his nails, seeming more comfortable now that the topic of conversation is not himself. He leans his chin onto one hand and studies Marcel. “I dunno. I haven’t read the book myself. My mum has talked about it a lot so I could tell you what they are and you could take a guess.”

“Okay,” Marcel agrees, sitting back in his chair. He’s not sure why but it makes him a little less tense to know that Louis hasn’t read this book. Like maybe that means he can’t hone in on Marcel’s feelings if he doesn’t know the specifics.

“Let’s see,” Louis hums thoughtfully, gaze rolling towards the ceiling as he tries to remember. He counts them off on his fingers as they come to him. “Acts of Service, gifts, touch…, quality time.” He huffs impatiently at himself when he can’t seem to remember the last one. “I don’t know why I can’t remember them all,” he frowns. “There are only _five_.”

“It’s alright,” Marcel says, reaching across the table and wrapping his hand around Louis’ wrist. Louis’ thumb is still bent where he hasn’t remembered the fifth love language but Marcel’s touch seems to make the tension in Louis’ fingers melt away a little. “You’ll remember eventually. Maybe we can come up with a mnemonic device to help, like we do with Chemistry. You’re doing brilliantly with those.”

“Words of affirmation!” Louis says a little too loudly, making both boys turn and wave apologetically at the librarian with winces on their faces.

She smiles at them and shakes her head fondly but there’s nobody else in the room so they aren’t really harming anyone.

“Sorry,” Louis apologizes, turning back to Marcel. “I didn’t mean to yell but I was really proud of myself for remembering.”

Marcel grins at the ridiculous boy across from him. “It’s okay.”

He lets go of Louis’ wrist to sit back in his seat again as he considers the options. He offers words of affirmation all the time but Louis had talked about the way his love language made him feel good in return. Spending quality time with his friends definitely makes him feel good but it’s not until he considers _touch_ that he thinks he knows the good feeling Louis is talking about. He’s always touching the people he cares about in small ways, a hug or a cuddle for his mum when he’s feeling particularly affectionate. He can’t even count the little touches his gives his friends, a shoulder grip or a squeeze of a hand. It always gives him the warmth in his heart, a jolt of energy that makes him feel just a little bit more alive. And Louis. Marcel was holding his wrist not thirty seconds ago, thriving on the electricity he felt. Plus, there’s the machinations of his tail to consider, the light caresses it sometimes gives that Marcel isn’t entirely in control of but that leave him feeling just a little more content. The way it wraps around Louis’ ankle sometimes.

“Touch,” Marcel murmurs. He’s absolutely certain. Touch is _definitely_ his love language. In fact, thinking about it, he thinks it’s probably Zayn’s love language too. Their tails give away a lot and Marcel wonders if maybe this is another thing that’s common among hybrids along with heightened emotional sensitivity.

“Touch?” Louis asks, head tilted to the side. “That’s your love language?” There’s an intensity in his eyes that has Marcel’s heart tripping all over itself.

“Um, yeah. I think so,” He clears his throat and bends to pull his chemistry book from his bag. “We should probably get started though. We’re running a little behind today.” He hopes Louis doesn’t recognize the transition for what it is. A distraction. To keep Louis from realizing just how often Marcel touches him. How much it means when he does.

“Sure,” Louis says with a smirk on his face. “Let’s get started.”

Marcel narrows his eyes at him, unsure of why he suddenly looks so damn smug. Opening the book to the chapter they’ve been working on, he glanced down at it, but that smirk is bugging him. “What? What’s so funny?” Marcel asks when he can’t take the suspense anymore.

“What?” Louis asks, eyes wide with fake innocence as he bites down on his smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Marcel huffs in exasperation. “I don’t believe you but we have a lot to get through today.”

“Yep. Absolutely,” Louis nods very studiously. “Let’s do it.”

He wears a smirk the entire time they’re studying and refuses to tell Marcel why. It’s not until they’re getting up to leave that Marcel discovers the reason.

His freaking tail has escaped and made its home around Louis’ ankle again.

Damn tail.

 

***Still Wednesday***

 

“Zaaaayn,” Marcel groans over the phone. “Help me.”

He’s been complaining about his tail to Zayn for the last half hour and Zayn is, in fact, being no help whatsoever.

His friend sighs through the receiver. “You’re a big boy, Marce. Do you really need me to tell you what to do?”

“No,” Marcel says with an answering sigh. “I guess not. I mean, he didn’t seem bothered that my tail was crawling up his leg like a boa constrictor. Maybe that means something.”

“There you go!” Zayn replies, sounding more enthusiastic than he ever does when talking about anything that is not Niall Horan. Marcel appreciates the effort. “You’ve never been a coward, Marce. If you like Louis, tell him.”

“Yeah,” Marcel agrees. “You’re right. I can do this. I’m gonna tell him.”

“Excellent!” Zayn cheers. “Now can I hang up and make out with my boyfriend again?”

Marcel rolls his eyes, sighing playfully. “If you must.”

The line goes dead before he can even get all the words out.

 

***Thursday, School***

 

Marcel doesn’t work up the nerve to ask Louis out but he does make sure he runs into him in the hallways so he can give him a fifteen page study guide he spent several hours making the night before for Louis’ test on Friday.

Louis flips through the pages in silent shock, only speaking when he gets to the last page. “This must have taken ages.”

“It wasn’t too bad. Like you said before, I’m a science nerd,” Marcel shrugs, with a nervous grin.

“You’re— you’re _incredible_. Thank you,” Louis says, reaching for Marcel’s wrist and wrapping it in loose but firm grip. “I was freaking out a bit but this helps a lot. Thank you.”

“You already said that,” Marcel chuckles. His arm is tingling under Louis’ touch and he feels a little like he’s glowing from the inside as Louis looks at him like he’s someone special.

“It bears repeating,” Louis tells him, giving his wrist a squeezing and donning a smile that makes Marcel melt.

The sound of the warning bell has the two boys stepping apart, which means that Louis has to let go of Marcel’s wrist.

“Thanks again, Marcel. This is amazing,” Louis says clutching the study guide to his chest. “I’m gonna use this tonight and I’ll let you know how the test goes tomorrow?”

“Sounds good,” Marcel nods before his heart sinks. “Oh, but uh, we’re not scheduled to have a tutoring session on test days.” He had nearly forgotten and apparently Louis had too. But Louis just gives him another smile.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Marcel,” Louis laughs. “We’re still friends. We can still hang out even when we don’t have a session. Unless… if you’re busy—”

He looks unsure suddenly and Marcel rushes to stop that thought before it can get any further.

“No. I- I don’t have any plans. We can still hang out.”

“Okay,” Louis says, smile growing again. “I better go or I’ll be late. But I’ll come to your house after school tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

“Great.”

Louis turns and rushes off to class and Marcel has to grasp his tail so that it doesn’t follow after him.

 

***Friday, After School***

 

Louis has a hard time sitting still in his seat as he drives to Marcel’s house after school. He’s maybe a little bit reckless, speeding just a smidge to get there faster. He has some very important news to share and he can’t wait to see Marcel’s face when he does.

When he reaches his destination, it’s a struggle not to just leave the keys in the ignition and run to ring the doorbell but Louis reasons that he’s eighteen now and he should probably do the adult thing. He turns the car off and actually makes sure to shut the car door behind him instead of just leaving it open. His mother would be proud. Or, at least, not exasperated.

He’s bouncing on the tips of his toes when he pushes the button the bell, his graded test held in front of his chest. He had planned on letting Marcel know that he’d _thought_ he had done well thanks to Marcel’s study guide but Louis’ teacher had actually caught up with him later in the day. He gave Louis his graded test and told him that he was impressed with how far he’d come. It had made Louis’ day and the first person he’d thought to share it with was Marcel.

When the door swings open and Marcel appears, Louis throws himself into his arms, wrapping his own around Marcel’s neck, not even giving him time to see the test.

“I passed,” Louis says giddily into his neck. “Thanks to you, I passed.”

“It wasn’t me,” Marcel laughs, wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist and holding tight. “You did it, Louis. Congratulations.”

“Let’s not pretend I ever could have done it without you,” Louis argues. He wonders if this hug is going on a little too long but then decides that if Marcel isn’t complaining, he doesn’t care.

“Maybe I helped a little,” Marcel concedes and it feels like his hold on Louis tightens.  “But you did all the heavy lifting.”

“Hush, you,” Louis pulls back to slap at Marcel’s shoulder teasingly.

Marcel simply grins, ushering Louis into his house. “I think we have some sparkling grape juice if you want to celebrate.”

“Oooh, fancy,” Louis laughs, walking towards the kitchen when it seems like that’s where Marcel is taking him. “Are you clairvoyant? Did you _know_ I was gonna pass so you picked some up on the way home?”

Marcel stops Louis from walking ahead, catching his wrist and holding it until he stops, turning to Marcel curiously. “Louis, I _always_ knew you were gonna pass. I told you, you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for and you always work so hard. I never had a doubt in my mind.”

Louis stares at Marcel, blinking slowly as he stands there, Marcel gripping his wrist so tight like he just wants Louis to see what he sees.  _What does he see_ , Louis wonders. Is it the same as what Louis sees when he looks at him? 

“God, you’re so fucking cute," Louis breathes.

His words seems to stun Marcel. Apparently, that is not the reaction he was expecting.

“What?”

“You’re cute,” Louis repeats, twisting his wrist in Marcel’s grip, until he’s holding Marcel’s hand in his own. He does so delicately, afraid of making a wrong move. Half-expecting a rejection at any moment. “And you’re one of the nicest, most wonderful people I’ve ever met. I- I really like you, Marcel.”

“I like you, too,” Marcel says tonelessly. Perhaps he’s not emoting the way he means to. He sounds like he’s just parroting Louis’ words back to him instead of making any kind of actual declaration. Or maybe he just doesn’t feel the same. Louis won’t be able to really breathe until he knows for sure.

“Do you?” Louis asks, taking a step closer, risking everything as he moves Marcel’s hand that he’s been holding to rest on his hip. It stays put when he lets go of it and that makes him feel marginally better about where Marcel’s head is at. He slowly slides his own arms back around Marcel’s neck. “Do you like me the way I like you?”

Marcel nods silently. He looks to be holding his breath too as both of his arms slide around Louis’ waist and pull him fully against his body, embracing him even more tightly than when Louis had arrived and thrown himself into Marcel’s arms. “I do. I like you so much, Louis.”

Louis rests his head on Marcel’s shoulder, taking in a deep, relieved inhale of air. Marcel squeezes him and that makes Louis smile. He almost quips that Marcel doesn’t have to hold on so tight, that he’s not going anywhere but then he hears a quiet whisper of ‘oh fuck’ that makes him pull back a little.

Seeing where Marcel’s gaze is, Louis looks down and sees a tail that’s wrapped tightly around both of them, keeping them pressed together at the waist. Marcel’s tail.

“Holding me for ransom, then?” Louis jokes, catching Marcel’s eye when he glances timidly at Louis’ face. His cheeks are flush with embarrassment, ears tucked in, and Louis thinks he’s so beautiful.

“Er, I just—”

“I have to say, with the wedding coming up, they might not be willing to pay to get me back. You may just be stuck with me,” Louis interrupts with a sly grin, petting at one of Marcel’s ears until it moves, twitching sideways in a silent request for more. Louis isn’t willing to let Marcel feel embarrassed about this. Honestly, if this keeps happening, it might be Louis’ new favorite thing ever.

Marcel studies his face, takes in the smile he’s wearing, and all the tension seems to leave Marcel’s shoulders. He gives Louis shy smile in return. “Guess I’ll have to keep you then.”

“Can I let you in on a little secret?” Louis asks, pulling him down to whisper in his ear. “I was hoping you would.”

Marcel closes his eyes at Louis’ words like he’s relishing them.  

“This is the part where you kiss me,” Louis leans in again to whisper.

“Shut up and maybe I will,” Marcel whispers back, tilting his head and kissing away Louis’ smug grin.

“Be my boyfriend?” Louis asks between kisses, not even giving Marcel a second to answer before he’s diving back in for another one.

“Yeah,” Marcel answers breathlessly, letting Louis capture his mouth in another soul-searing kiss. When Louis pulls away for breath, Marcel still holds him close, smiling into his neck. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

“Oh really?” Louis says, waiting until Marcel’s watching to wiggle his eyebrows like Niall taught him. “ _What else have you wanted to do_?”

Marcel arches his own brow back, just like Zayn taught _him_ to. “We’d have to go to my room for that.”

Louis giggles, both of them fully aware of the couple they’re emulating. “Holy shit. We’re gonna give Zayn and Niall a run for their money tomorrow.”

“Wanna practice in my room?” Marcel asks.

Tail holding him hostage or no tail, Louis can’t climb the stairs fast enough.

 

***Saturday, Niall’s House***

 

“So, are you going to open the door?” Liam asks, immediately picking up where they left off last week.

“Nah,” Niall shakes his head, turning his head to give his boyfriend a look of affection where he sits next to him. “Someone pretty smart once told me ‘Don’t open that fucking door, Niall’, so I think we should listen.”

“Aww, babe,” Zayn grins, leaning in to give Niall a kiss that immediately turns into a heavy make out session.

“Fuck off with that cute shit,” Louis complains, tossing a handful of pretzels at the couple.

“Don’t make me hide your string cheese, Niall,” Marcel adds, a stern looks on his face.

Niall pulls away from Zayn abruptly, pointing a menacing finger at Marcel. “Don’t you dare! I still haven’t found the last one you hid.”

“That stuff will kill you, Niall. You should be thanking me,” Marcel grins, accepting a fist bump from Louis.

“Stop making my boy upset,” Zayn glares at them. “He’s precious and should be treated as such.”

“Can we just go back to playing?” Liam asks, trying to keep the group on track.

“Fine. We bypass the ominous door,” Marcel announces. “What now?”

“We head into the bedroom?” Louis teases with a wicked smirk as he brushes his foot against Marcel’s under the table.

“Louis!” Marcel gasps, acting scandalized. He glances at their friends before, leaning closer and stage whispering. “In front of that lads? That’s kinky.”

“HOLY SHIT!” Niall shouts, nearly displacing Zayn from where he’s climbed into Niall’s lap. Honestly, it’s a wonder they even keep five chairs around table. “Did you two finally get your shit together?”

“I mean, we got _something_ together,” Marcel mutters with a grin, winking theatrically at Niall.

“He means our dicks,” Louis supplies helpfully. “We rubbed off on each other. Several times. It was _glorious_.”

“Louis,” Marcel cries, actually scandalized this time but still somehow fighting a smile.

“What?” Louis asks innocently, gesturing toward the other couple. “We have to watch Zayn and Niall do it all the time.”

Niall cackles while Zayn rolls his eyes and shakes his head at them.

Liam looks about ready to find an entirely new friend group.

“Wanna give ‘em something to watch, babe?” Niall asks his boyfriend.

Zayn refuses to give the question a verbal response but does kiss Niall in answer. Repeatedly.

Louis snorts. “Well, four can play that game.” He turns to Marcel who’s already facing him.

Marcel giggles. “Foreplay.”

“Totally unintended, babe,” Louis shakes his head, fighting a smile briefly before he can’t anymore. “But good catch. Now focus.”

“Right,” Marcel nods, getting very serious. “Making out. Yes. Let’s do this.”

He kisses Louis, easily getting lost in the taste of his boyfriend, each sensual flick of his tongue. God, they’re so good together.

“Guys?” Liam calls trying not to look at either couple. The wet smacking sounds are more than enough for him to know what’s going on. “Nevermind me,” Liam tells the room at large, not that anyone’s listening. “I’ll just sit here. By myself. With my eyes covered.”

It takes at least another fifteen minutes to get the two couples under control and get the game going again. Liam’s seriously going have to consider finding his own person to make out with. One thing’s for certain, Saturday D & D is certainly going to be interesting from here on out.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this, I really hope you enjoyed it.


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